Self-destruct program
(pregnancy test two red lines detected at startup)
The titanium doors of the Federal Reserve Bank of New York's underground vault reflect Violette's distorted reflection as her Christian Louboutin dagger-heeled shoes crush the remains of a Bitcoin mining machine into pieces. Fingertips enter the last line of self-destruct code at the quantum keyboard when the Gucci waist chain suddenly tightens - the pregnancy test slips out of the Dior saddlebag, and two blood-red horizontal bars cast crosshairs on the bulletproof glass floor.
"Warning: maternal hormone detected." The vault's AI guard suddenly switches to Lucas's voice as the laser sight circles the Nasdaq code on her pregnant belly, "Fetal heartbeat is rewriting your revenge algorithm." Violette's Van Cleef & Arpels bracelet explodes in response, shattered diamonds forming a Bayesian probability model in the air: 73.2% of the 89.7% failure rate of vengeance stems from this accidental life form.
Thirty floors below ground the cold air mingles with the smell of rusting bullion as Scarlett's mechanical remnants crawl out of the ventilation ducts, the Tesla Coil uterus spewing crypto-sparks: "Ethan offered ten tons of blood diamonds for your placenta's stem cells." She flings out futures contracts drawn with amniotic fluid samples, "Sign it, Wall Street's most elegant abortion clinic is ready." Violette's pregnancy vomit hits the contract signature line with pinpoint accuracy, and stomach acid corrodes the escape map of the Swiss bank's thirty underground floors.
A quantum computer suddenly overloads, a holographic screen shows a simulation of embryonic development - the fetus's neural network is synchronized with the Federal Reserve's main servers. violette rips open her Alexander McQueen couture suit, the Dow Jones from the day her father fell off the building appears on her pregnant belly, and the Cartier umbilical ring at her navel suddenly shoots lasers, etching a countdown to labor on the gold-strewn walls: nine months, 30 days, 23 hours, 59 seconds.
"Surprise?" The remains of Lucas's brain-computer interface flickered in the blast-proof glass case, "Your ovulation data has long been programmed into the revenge algorithm." Violette's Choker releases a neurotoxin, only to have it converted into a folic acid supplement by his pre-implanted antibody program. The vault alarm suddenly spikes, and the embryonic brainwaves in her womb are cracking the iris-recognition systems of all Manhattan banks.
Scarlett's mechanical fingers jabbed into the backup power connector as the Tesla electric whip wrapped around Violette's pregnant belly: "Your uterus is worth more than the Federal Reserve vault." The holographic screen pops up a dark web bidding page, her pregnancy data is refreshing the offer at a rate of three meltdowns per second.Violette bites into a cyanide capsule in her back teeth, the toxin is instead filtered through the placental barrier into a DHA nutrient solution.
As the Secret Service breaks down a thirty-story concrete wall, Violette is drawing antimatter bomb equations on gold bricks with umbilical cord blood. The fetus suddenly moves violently and the shockwave shatters the eight hundred ton gold storage locker. She grabs two South African blood diamonds in the roiling gold dust and shoves them into her laser-sliced lower abdomen, "Put away your inheritance, baby." A quantum storm swept through the underground space, the embryo's heartbeat rate resonating perfectly with the global debt countdown.
"The game has escalated." She tore off the chain of her platinum Hermes bag to bind her pregnant belly, stepped on the gold bricks and leapt into the emergency tunnel. Behind her, a wave of explosive air melted the remains of the pregnancy test into blood-colored crystals, reflecting Lucas's final holographic last words: when the vengeance program begins to replicate itself, you'll learn to strangle fate with the umbilical cord.